Never regret anything that made you smile.||17||

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  • wordslinger 1w

    What does a writer's soul yearns for..?!

    Maybe just few words and lots of emotions, maybe just few things to be imprinted on soul for lifetime and more can be seen through eyes and smile.

    Human bodies trace very long way from past to present to future but what is constant throughout the journey is the soul, even not you not me not even words beyond this eternity.


  • wordslinger 12w

    Being invisible, the euphoric metaphors dance between the hidden books yearning for the voice, for the glimpse or maybe a mere soothing touch. Yearning to become some eternal proses which people reread again and again, which you and I talk about, which a selenophile calls beauty of his beloved.


  • wordslinger 12w

    I am a forlorn poem, left between the pages of the diary of a poet which he can't show to the world and could not even read it again by his own.

    From faded hopes, the dark into the dream that shimmer through the trembling breeze.

    Alone with the broken heart, the forlorn heart exist which has become my solace where resides only my broken dreams with flying hearts.


  • wordslinger 13w

    I write because I love talking between the lines, where some understands. Not everyone is blessed to know the real us. I write to make the joyous time still and gloomy days far,this is what make us different from others.

    Full stops, comas, semicolons... Are the ones who knows a writer's soul and helps him to create a MASTERPIECE.

    -just a girl with pen and issues.


  • wordslinger 13w

    She's painting her soul with the different hues this world is offering her. Girls like her are not merely metaphors of some beauty, she is a sonnet full of love, epigram of kindness and versification of this entire universe. She's the amaranthine bloom to be presumed.


  • wordslinger 14w

    A father like my father who tells tales of gypsies and fairies bold, and illustrates stories never been told.

    A father like my father tells new stories when I ask, I know it is not an easy task to make one's head bask.

    A father like my father who endures the bright shine of life with complete bloom, which blows of mundane gloom in the space sparkled room.

    A father like my father who is being a great mountain expanding in my heart driving my glorious cart.

    A father like my father is the patience of immortality , the depth of a child's need.

    A father like my father is the epitome of kindness like the mother earth, he just works quietly for those he loves the most.

    A father like my father was born when God mustered all these qualities and nothing more to add, he knew his miracle was complete so he made him my dad.

    #happyfathersday #mirakee #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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  • wordslinger 15w

    Beauty isn't in face, it's in character, in personality and of someone. Beauty lies in the power of beholding something beyond limits which can't be express in words or metaphors but can only be feel.

    Beauty is being super happy in gloomy days and laughing out your heart and facing the circumstances. Beauty is the music which one should sing and listen until your eyes start shining brightly and your heart starts singing loudly.

    Beauty is hearing and believing God laughing with us. Beauty is in kind act of humanity, being humane. Beauty is wearing your heart on your sleeve, depicting the richness of your soul. Glittering and glimmering the lives of others with the sparkles of beauty of kindness.

    Beauty may be someone's advocacy or may be someone's entertainment. Beauty may be an old rusted torn page from a journal or just a faded page to ignore. Beauty may be on the old wrinkled face or beauty doesn't even exist in charm. It's about how we define and feel depicts the beauty of a soul, of a human.


    #writersnetwork @writersnetwork #pod @mirakee

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    B E A U T Y

    Glittering and glimmering the lives of others with the sparkles of kindness is beauty.


  • wordslinger 16w

    MIRAKEE a perfect abode for imperfect us.


  • wordslinger 17w

    F L O W E R

    Straight as a line blossoming as the stars that shine. All that we wish to stay rests and then flies. That has not long to stay and dies on someday like someday it's petals wither and I gaze and gaze till it's shine dies and my heart cries.

    For the crimson flower of my life is eaten by the harsh reality of this world and no hand can muster the fallen withered petals.

    Henceforth use your flowers when there's time to service and pluck it while there is time.


  • wordslinger 18w

    Tribute !

    Stars so bright, mingling under sky.
    Life is so vivid but at all steps it lie.
    Like moon cry for it's death and stars die
    to pay it tribute. ✨